I’m Still Waiting for God to Heal Me

I’ve been struck by it my whole life. I’ve fasted. I’ve prayed. I’ve desperately cried out to God…and yet, I’m still waiting.

But slowly (and more slowly than I would have hoped), my perspective has begun to shift and align with how God wants me to view healing. Because I believe there’s a unique closeness with God that can only be experienced by walking with him through suffering.

And boy, have I walked (or stumbled).

The Curse

Did you ever get purposely dizzy as a kid for fun? I’m talking about the kind of dizzy when you’re on a swing or merry-go-round and your friend spins you faster and faster and faster—so much you can’t walk straight when you get up, no matter how hard you try. As a kid, that feeling was a fun challenge. As an adult, it’s crippling.

I haven’t been on a merry-go-round in years, but my body still shows signs of losing balance. And when I lose my balance, my brain isn’t actually spinning or feeling dizzy; my body just doesn’t respond to the signals to walk straight all the time.

I have Spinocerebellar Ataxia Type 2 (or Ataxia to make it simpler). It’s genetic. My mom has it, her mom had it, and we think it started with my great-grandfather. My family soon started to realize something was wrong, so we went through genetic testing and medical assessments. Tests determined we’re dealing with Ataxia, a rare disease for which there is no cure.

Some of the symptoms are:

• Lack of coordination
• Slurred speech
• Trouble eating and swallowing
• Deterioration of fine motor skills
• Difficulty walking
• Memory loss

Not only is our Ataxia genetic, but it’s also progressive. It’s always there, and you can never shake it off, no matter how confident you feel. Since balance is usually the first thing to go, I felt like I could fall at any moment, especially when going down the stairs. My handwriting and typing also got worse. Slowly, my speech slurred–even when my brain told me I said the word normally.

Making Moves

Each time the disease is passed down, the symptoms show up earlier. It gets worse sooner. I recently learned this is called “anticipation” (what a great thing to call it!). As I’m writing this, my mom is in her 60s and has to use a scooter to get around. We are wondering how many years it will be before she‘ll be mostly confined to her bed or the couch, since getting up to do anything would cause her to fall. As I’ve gotten older, I almost view the disease as a generational curse.

But after reflecting and praying about my family’s past, I made a declaration: this Ataxia stops with me. I vowed not to have kids biologically (as much as I can help it), so I wouldn’t pass it on.

So I started making moves. I put myself in positions to hear from God more, talk to him more, and not get stuck in my worry or anxiety.

Fasting

I know that my God is more powerful than the disease. My first step to combating my Ataxia was the decision to fast.

But here’s the thing: I love food. I love being creative in my cooking. So, taking up fasting as a way to fight and pray for healing for my Ataxia wasn’t really my first choice. Lack of food can also cause me to feel lightheaded and lose my balance more. On paper, it didn’t seem like a great idea.

But for some reason, I felt like God was challenging me to do something inconvenient for my healing. Jesus talks about the need for prayer and fasting in order for certain miracles to occur in Mark 9:29. If healing might be on the other side, I thought I should at least try.

Fasting was hard, but it brought me closer to God. It brought me to a place of surrender and humility, a space to hear more clearly from God and to enter into a deeper connection with him. When I relied on God to sustain me instead of food–as simple as that sounds–I trusted him in a different way. (Here’s a great message about fasting and the power behind it.)

A Shift in Mindset

As my symptoms started to get worse, I suffered physically and mentally. No matter how hard I tried, how slow I went, my balance and other motor skills started to fail. It was something I couldn’t free myself from, almost like a spider web sticking to my body. Every movement brought frustration.

How could I change my mindset throughout all this? There had to be something better, a shift in my perspective. I remember hearing something in the Bible about joining Christ in his suffering, so I began to explore it further. Paul writes in Philippians 1:29, “For it has been granted to you that for the sake of Christ you should not only believe in him but also suffer for his sake.” Jesus brings renewal and restoration, but there’s also a strange, intimate connection with him in the hurting.

I then came across 2 Corinthians 12:9-10, and it became my life verse. “But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” I also came across a song that Crossroads made, “Take Me Deeper,” and it’s brought such encouragement. The opening lyrics say this,

“In my heart there is a song that’s hard to sing Because it scares me just to think of what it means I want to know you Jesus in your suffering, take me deeper.”

This song perfectly describes the perspective I’ve been searching for. I continually invited Jesus to join me in my desperation.

My Partial Healing

Time went by after I began fasting and learning to shift my mindset in suffering, and still no results. But in 2024, a close friend invited me to join the Women’s Prayer Team for Crossroads’ Woman Camp. I went to one of the nights of prayer training to learn more about how we can pray and invite the Holy Spirit in.

There came a moment of putting our learnings into practice. I raised my hand and said I wanted healing. Two women came over and placed their hands on me, taking their time to pray over me. They would periodically stop, ask me questions, and then start praying again. I told them I never felt any improvement. I even tested out the prayers by hopping on each foot a couple of times. Nothing.

It wasn’t until the next morning that I realized something had significantly changed. Throughout my entire body, I felt sturdy and confident. I didn’t wobble as much while walking. When I told my body to suddenly turn and change directions while walking, it did so with more precision. I call this “partial healing” because overall, I still sometimes wobble and struggle to do some things, but it’s definitely not as bad as before.

One of the most impactful moments was during a worship session a couple of days later. I feel like I connect with God most during worship when I can close my eyes and raise my hands, surrendering to him. With Ataxia, this had been difficult because in those moments I felt off balance and constantly had to correct myself, and it’s hard to worship God when I’m constantly being distracted. But after my partial healing, I not only felt balanced, but I could also dance and jump up and down in my praise.

My Mom’s Partial Healing

Ever since I experienced my partial healing, I’ve been intentionally praying for my mom to get healed. Every Tuesday morning, my sister, my mom, and I set aside time for updates and prayer. After four months of doing this each week with nothing happening, my mom shared that she found out about some medicine that could pause her symptoms and possibly make them subside.

We are still praying for God to do a miracle and fully heal her, and we also believe that one way that God answers prayers is through the provision of medicine. “So in a way,” she said recently, “God has answered my prayers, it just looks different right now.”

You are Worthy

When I share my story of healing, I want to be careful because I know other people are waiting for a miracle. There are individuals with diseases and disabilities who have been hurt by the church. Maybe some have been told that if they had just a little bit more faith when they prayed, they would be healed. I don’t have time to say everything I want to here, but I will say this: If you identify with this in any way, I declare that you are worthy and valuable in this moment. And the Bible does, too. You are made in God’s image, and you have a purpose.

There is this tension of knowing that, on the one hand, my God is powerful enough to save, heal, and restore—and, on the other hand, understanding that complete restoration won’t happen on this side of Heaven. We are all broken people. The here-and-not-yet. Walking in this tension can be hard and depleting, whether you are the one waiting or know someone who is.

A story from the Bible that comforts me is when three men were persecuted for their continued faith. And because of that, an evil king threatened to burn them alive in a furnace.

Even still, the three men said to the king, “Our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of your hand, O king. But if not, be it known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up.” (Daniel 3:17-18). It shows that those men believed God had the power to save them from their circumstances, but even if he didn’t, they would not give in.

For me, I want to have this faith with my disease. I believe that God has the power to heal me from Ataxia on this side of Heaven—and even if he doesn’t, I’m still not going to give up praying and putting my faith and hope in Him. My prayers for healing will be answered at some point.

Opportunity

A year later, I am still waiting for God to fully heal me from Ataxia, knowing it might get worse.

I’m praying for this, and at the same time, I admit I feel like God wants me to put more trust and reliance in him during the waiting. I truly believe there’s a unique closeness with God that can only be experienced by walking with him through suffering.

I think He wants me to be faithful with the healing I’ve had so far, like exercising to push my body to do things I couldn’t do before. While I’m running, I do it for God—and as a prayer for my mom’s healing. I petition to God as I sprint and honestly want to give up, “God, do you see me running? This is because of what you did. I won’t quit. Remember what you did, and do it for my mom, too.”

I desperately want God to fully heal me. There are days I become so frustrated and angry because I wish my body worked properly. In these moments, God wants me to come to him with those emotions. He can take it.

Sometimes I start thinking about the word “opportunity,” how it can bring a freshness of God’s power. There’s hope. I have another opportunity for Him to heal me and for me to experience that amazement once again.

So I hold in tension this yearning for full freedom and healing while knowing that God is powerful and capable.

He’s not finished yet.

Disclaimer: This article is 100% human-generated.

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At Crossroads, we major on the majors and minor on the minors. We welcome a diverse community of people who all agree that Jesus is Lord and Savior, even if they view minor theological and faith topics in different ways based on their unique experiences. Our various authors embody that principle, and we approach you, our reader, in the same fashion. You don’t have to agree with every detail of any article you see here to be part of this community or pursue faith. Chances are even our whole staff doesn’t even agree with every detail of what you just read. We are okay with that tension. And we think God is okay with that, too. The foundation of everything we do is a conviction that the Bible is true and that accepting Jesus is who he said he is leads to a healthy life of purpose and adventure—and eternal life with God.